


Roses are red

by mortianna



Category: Shameless (UK)
Genre: F/M, Fun, I'm Bad At Tagging, Romance, Smut, alternative universe, embarrassing physical reaction, hint at dark stuff, my idea about the roses, silly jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:55:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27713033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mortianna/pseuds/mortianna
Summary: Well, all McAvoyers know the scene in Shameless where he proposes to Fiona while lying in a car naked with his genitals covered in roses. I hadnt yet watched the series (DO IT, it's great!!!) but that scene popped up now and then and triggered my fantasy.  In a way. You know who. How, I mean. ahem. How did the roses get there? Who put them there? Well, here are my totally unscientific answers. Soemone had to put them there and he - reacts. Yes, interviews. *sigh* a lotI dont own nothing, and I love Anne, so I just took him and played a bit with him. No harm done.
Relationships: James McAvoy/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	Roses are red

„Naa“, the guy said, with a very strict and decided mien and everybody sighed. He was young, he was  
new, and he was hot and he had it, they were all sure of that, he was on his way up but he was a pain  
in the arse, too. Since the very first day of shooting he had changed his lines, discussed with the  
director and when he hadn’t gotten his way just done what he wanted. Which was usually bold and  
exciting and much more than expected – but … If it wasn’t for his charisma and the great connection  
and chemistry he had with the leading lady, they would have gotten rid of him some time ago. 

“Janine, you go. I’d hit the bugger in his sweet face”. She sighed. That was not her job. Shouldn’t be.  
But the director had given her more tasks already which had been better than just carrying around  
stuff and look that people wore the same clothes or not –as in his case. Continuity – second scriptgirl,  
at the moment she was more personal assistant to the director, a job that had suddenly become  
vacant after … well, she’d better go, over on the street to this van where now the talk between the  
two protagonists should be shooting, the proposal. He was only to present a bunch of red roses to  
the lady, what could possibly be wrong with that? 

“It’s boring”, the eager, honest, beautiful freckled man with the rather big nose, plush lips, floppy  
hair and the most striking pair of blue eyes said to her when she stood in front of him in the heat, in  
front of this old car, her ridiculous clipboard between them as a shield – for her. She had been  
around for some time now and yes – this guy would be a star, she was sure of it, he really pulled the  
people to him, wanting all kinds of things of him. He had it. Period. 

But he wouldn’t have her. Period two. Not that he wanted, needed that, there were loads of girls  
here following his every move. And guys. And even the leading lady, though 10 years older, seemed  
quite smitten. “He would’ t do that, Steve”, he explained to her now, with some earnest, “he would  
make a big thing of it. Come on, she’s his great love, he just wouldn’t come like that with a bunch of  
roses. It’s just too – normal. Pff, done a thousand times. And she would laugh at him for that  
Wouldn’t she?” 

She thought that over but really didn’t have to. He knew the character better than the director which  
wasn’t a good thing really, and he even knew the other characters better. And the thing he had done  
in this disco shoot, and in the alley with showing his ass and clapping on it – it had been so out of the  
world. It hadn’t been in the script, but he had made this Steve more remarkable with this, he had  
made him his character, so he was right. 

“And what do you think then what Steve would do? With the props we have here and the wilting  
flowers?”, she asked and tried to not sigh visibly. He was a fucking nuisance that guy but he was also  
very beautiful. And they just couldn’t afford to exchange him now and they couldn’t afford to wait  
much longer, with the light and the roses going, and so, yes, he would have his way again. If ti wasn’t  
too outrageous. 

“What?”, she asked. She must have misheard that. “We are a family show, you know that, don’t  
you?” He snarled. “Highly dysfunctional family”. “But family. How do you think we can pull that off?  
We already have your naked ass and more swear words than in a gangster movie. We can’t have  
your – longjohn – in it, too, they’d grill us alive”. 

He looked mildly amused. “Longjohn? Thank you for that. Nice one”. She turned red. Yes, most of the  
time now she behaved like nothing could shock her, but reality was quite different. “You know what I  
mean”. She sounded quite stricter than she felt. She was good at that. It helped her a lot with most  
people. Why did she have the feeling this one could look right through her disguises? Must be this  
completely insolent grin he directed at her now. He usually reserved that for when the cameras were  
rolling. He must amuse himself big time over her. 

“Mustn’t be seen. We can pull that off. Trust me”. She raised an eyebrow. “Why should I? Plus, it’s  
not me you have to convince. I’m just the – go-between”. “And I tell you therefore”. He was angry  
now and with good reason – surely the director should come and talk with him himself, not send his  
minions. It was idiotic of her to hide under her subaltern status. “Yes, and that’s true, sorry. So how  
do you think that could work?” He explained eagerly and she nodded. Yes, that might just work. It  
was bold, totally unseen before, would grip the audience, especially but not exclusively the female  
one, would make the show famous. And him, too. 

“And would we have to clear the streets?”, she asked him, taking notes on her pad. “You see, we can  
film it without your – thing –showing but it might be – arranged and you have to strip somewhere  
and get dressed again afterwards and I don’t know how many takes we’ll need and …” “Don’t worry”,  
he said, “I’ll do it in one go. And I don’t care, I like to be naked, no problem. I’ve got nothing to hide”.  
She was sure of that. The last one. She had seen his ass in that scene and jus the hint of a glimpse of  
the thing they were talking about just now, when he did that and pulled the pants down and up again  
– she had stood at the side. Concerning the “in one go” – she was not too sure of that – he might, but  
the audience would just have to behave. “Okay”, she said, “We’ll use some padding first, so you  
don’t – hurt yourself”. “Naa”, he said, “I want to feel it. Just like it would be. Where is the fun if you  
don’t really feel it?” 

She looked at him and thought – yes, that’s what it’s all about, his whole life, getting the most out of  
it, feeling it. For real. She admired him, envied him. And that was why he was in the limelight and she  
wasn’t. “If you wish”, she said, “and who is going to put them there? Any preferences? I mean that’s  
a rather – intimate thing to do. Of course, there would be lots of volunteers”. 

She never knew why she said that, perhaps she had the scene already before her mind’s eye and  
simply had to giggle. His eyes glittered. “What about you? Aren’t you here for continuity and props?  
And I have – faith – in you doing it professionally”. She gulped. He really did say something  
completely different than “professional” with his eyes. 

“Okay”, she said hurriedly, “might be the best and quickest decision before we have to draw straws  
with all of the crew. And cast”. Now he laughed out loud, threw back his head and then looked at her  
sideways with this irresistible panda grin. No, her hands would not shake and she would not hurt him  
badly. And she would not tug. In another world perhaps. 

“Okay, I’m gonna talk to him. Keep yourself and the roses fresh, will you?” Now that was decided,  
her cheeky side came out. She had had a life before this and she had been quite funny in that one,  
before she had begun to hide in the wall here for – reasons. She turned her back on his giggling and  
heaved a deep breath. Okay, now this would be a fun talk. 

Well, it was easier than she would have thought, the big incentive being the possibility that that  
would make the series rather more famous and he’d earn the fame. So they prepared everything.  
The story of what was planned went through the whole set like a flame – everybody was there and it  
was a constant chatter and giggling. The director went berserk and screamed all over the place, he  
was just such fun to be with. 

“Now go and prepare that little monster, will you”, he snapped at her, eyeing her in a really slimy  
way, “I bet you’re already wet from the expectation”. She just eyed him coolly but shivered as she  
went over the place to the set, where he was sitting, alone for the moment, looking at her. 

“What is it?”, he asked instantly. So much for her poker face. “Ach”, she tried to shrug it off but  
couldn’t. “Let’s get on with it, can we, the sooner this is done I can get out of this and the danger I’ll  
kill this man”. His eyes narrowed. “What has he done now?” She sighed. It was so little, and just too  
awful to tell him at the same time. But she did –that man had been around her and too close since  
her first day, overstepping boundaries and all, it was just one touch too much, this talk. 

He looked at her in a way that her eyes teared and she had to look away. He pulled her head back  
into his direction. His eyes were red rimmed, too, but glimmed with a fury she had not seen in him  
before. “Wait a moment, will you? I just have to talk to him nicely. Keep the roses fresh”. He grinned  
and she asked herself why it was okay when he said things like that and wasn’t when the director did. 

Easy answer – looks. Longer answer – everything. The director didn’t joke, he gave you the feeling he  
would and could exact his power over you any time – as he had done with her predecessor, while  
him, he, the actor – yes he flirted, yes, he touched, but in a way of equals: she had begun this  
freshness talk and he was just so sensitive to signs and sense them and well sure he had the  
advantage of looks but also of personality. Yes, he made fun of everyone, but mostly of himself and  
he took people and his job seriously, really seriously, even if he made nothing of it. 

And now he did. Had done. Came back now. With a deadly glare on his face that got wilder the closer  
he came to her. Or the farther away from him. “Okay. Let’s go for it. One word more of him – you  
just tell me. I’ll have him sacked. Only of course if you want me to. The union would ask questions  
ba…I think I have him cowed down. Enough of that. Now for my – what did you call it? And the roses?  
Where are they anyhow? Ah okay. I think I just strip down in the car. I can do that, have done that  
before. Sorry, I mean I’m not that tall I can do it. And then you come in, when the camera and angle  
are alright and prepare the roses and then we shoot. Piece of cake, aye?” 

“Aye”, she answered and she wasn’t even Scottish. What a speech. Why had he felt the urge to do so  
much talking now? She bit her lip. Couldn’t say. But feel. Felt good. Made her all wobbly inside. And  
her hands shake. Just wonderful. “Ready when you are”, came out of the car. 

She swallowed and grabbed the bunch of roses. Not carefully enough, she had a thorn in her hand  
before entering the car. She had not thought about not hurting herself with that, only him. Idiotic  
her, but a hand was not as sensitive as his – whatever. 

She braced herself and opened the door. Holy fucking shit. Jesus Christ. He was lying there on his  
back, completely naked. Smooth, really smooth, hair only where she didn’t dare look for - fear of –  
well, everything. Anything. Milk white skin. Freckles. Light muscles. Well, she would have to look,  
wouldn’t she, if she was going to put the roses – there? Oh fuck, why hadn’t she pretended to be  
sick? She felt sick. This was… 

“I’m so sorry”, he said and his voice sounded not as funny as it has previously been, it was rather  
hoarse, “this is much more embarrassing than I thought. Perhaps with more people around it  
wouldn’t be so – personal”. “Yes”, she said, “completely right. But I don’t fit in here, really, so more  
persons? And the camera is directly behind me”. “That is so comforting”, he mumbled, “I am really  
sorry, seems I have underestimated myself, overestimated I mean, this is really … much more  
exciting than I thought it would be and ...” 

She took a look and sighed. “Oh come on. I think there are worse jobs. Las week I saw a doctor on TV  
having to get off an elephant. That was embarrassing. Even to watch it”. Why on earth had she said  
that now? He broke out into laughter. “Well, thank you very much for the comparison. That’ll make it  
a whole lot easier now. And that isn’t quite what you have to do here, you know that, don’t you?”  
“Yes”, she said, now looking. O h my. Didn’t seem that bad an idea, though, looked quite –inviting. “I  
would have thought rather to the contrary, but just now it feels different”. “Yes, it does, doesn’t it?”  
Now she looked into his eyes and that made things worse. Better. Whatever. “But I think, first time  
you cut me with those thorns, things will … subside”. 

“Or not”, she muttered while eyeing him and the task at hand. “Perhaps you have a kink for that and  
don’t know yet?” He burst out laughing. That – readjusted things. “Trust me, I know all my – kinks,  
this is not one of them. Just – this must be really awful for you. Just do it. I mean, it’s okay for me –  
whatever… Just don’t take it personally. I mean… Oh just get on with it, will you? The sooner we’re  
finished, the earlier we can pretend it never happened”. He laughed again. “I mean it’s not as if it will  
be on screen for long. Or saved for eternity”. 

“Well, not me”, she murmured, but that had really helped. None of this was personal. He wanted to  
forget it ever happened. So get on with it” And she did. She threw a critical glance at the area  
concerned and at the flowers in her hand. Should just about be enough. 

“Well, okay, I start. Try not to move from now on, okay? Imagine it’s an x-ray”. “Yeah”, he said and  
“wait” and he pulled up his arms and put his hands behind his head which left him in an even more  
vulnerable and open position. Any yes, there was hair in the armpits too, but not much really. Nice,  
all over. The man was unbelievable. 

“I could just throw the whole bunch down there. But I think I put them there one by one instead. Will  
look much better”. He started to giggle again but stopped himself. “Consideration accepted and  
highly welcome. I’m ready. Get on with it”. Nothing personal, she told herself, nothing personal. She  
started with one flower on the side, one next to it and shook her head. “I’m really not sure if that can  
be done at all, we’ll have to shoot awfully fast and you really have to stay like that – everywhere”. 

“That’s what I understood, thanks for your concern, I try, you know. And as I said, I don’t want to  
offend you or anything, whatever happens is nothing personal”. “You could stop saying that again  
and again”, she said, watching her artwork, “I know you mean well but it sounds rather insulting”.  
Now the artwork wobbeled as he started to laugh. “What? Sorry. No, I don’t mean it like that. Or did  
I? Oh fuck it, I just didn’t want you to think that I am like that other guy”. No need to”, she muttered,  
starting to adjust things and roses again, “I have eyes and ears and I feel that”. 

He stared at her. “Oh you do? Good”. He lay back onto his hands and licked his lips. “Look I think I  
meant that yes, there are certain physical reactions to touch and, ok I just can’t… I mean I lose every  
fucking way. This is unbelievably embarrassing”. “Yes, and it needn’t have been”, she reminded him  
and started her work anew. “You could have just given her the fucking flowers, naked if that would  
have been better for the rates and your career, now let me do this –oh fuck, you did it again”. 

“I’m so sorry”, he said, “yes, that was a really bad idea. But now we’re doing it. Come one, where is  
the fun in playing everything nice and safe?” “Spares a lot of embarrassment”, she said, “you do that  
one more time and I really throw down the whole bunch there. Or we tape it. Or … and that would  
really hurt getting that off again. I mean…” 

“I know what you mean, but really, making me laugh won’t help my lying here without a move”.  
“Well, it seems to help that part of you I’m working at”. Now he moved onto his elbows and stared at  
her. “Look, we can talk about all this later and I really want to explain the shit I said about ‘personal’,  
I really want but can we just get these fucking roses done with first?” “Not my fault at all”, she  
muttered, trying hard not to jump or do anything else showing her excitement at the thought of that  
talk. “You move, the roses fall down. Quite easy to understand, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah, and your talking won’t help”, came a voice from outside, “here are people waiting to shoot  
and if you don’t get on with it now, I personally tuck the fucking bunch on his dick and he’ll never  
forget the day”. 

They looked at each other, dumb-founded at first, then they tried not to giggle, biting their lips. Then  
she worked fluently and he helped her and five minutes later it was all done, and the camera was out  
again and he began to dress. These jeans, nothing else, a black tee. Why was she still in here  
anyhow? She had completely forgotten to leave, it had felt totally natural to stay. 

“So now, to the personal”, he began rather fast and strong, but his read ears and flushed cheeks  
betrayed his excitement. She shook her head and showed outside. People in hearing distance, a lot of  
them. He nodded. “Later?” He nearly only mouthed it. She nodded. “Later”. He moved along her to  
get out of this fucking car and just brushed against her. “Sorry”. She closed her eyes. There wouldn’t  
have to be much talking. And there wasn’t. 

They met after the day’s work was done, in the pub at the end of the road, ate and drank and talked  
about a lot, but not about anything that had to be talked about. They sat very close after some time,  
touching frequently at shoulders and hips and at some moment, after a rather lively story about  
other stuff he had done workwise, his hand landed on her thigh, accidentally, she was quite sure of  
that, but both were struck as if by lightning and a sense of inevitability and there was a sudden  
silence and stillness around them, a kind of bubble, and his eyes turned big and his throat jumped  
and he came close, very much closer still and she wanted to start fidgeting around and then again  
not, and he grabbed her head and came closer still and touched his lips to hers and she took in a  
deep breath which was the last for quite some time and when she came to from this kiss, this  
unbelievable experience, she was lying on her back on the bench, he on top of her, with eyes glazed  
and cheeks and ears flushed, looking down on her as if ready to devour her and she felt ready for  
exactly that in her whole body and then her ears worked again, too, and she heard the howls and the  
screams: “Get a room, we want to drink here”. 

They felt a bit embarrassed and laughed it off, both flushed and with glittering eyes and he said:  
“Good idea, btw, do you live here anywhere close?” and she nodded eagerly, yes of course, and so  
they went away, to the howling laughter of others, out of the pub, through the dark alley and directly  
into her bed, which made up most of her one-room-apartment aka the cupboard not under the  
stairs. 

“Nice”, he said and looked around, “a room with a …argh”. She had jumped at him and pulled his  
sweater over his head, together with the tee. He laughed. “Oh, okay, don’t talk, just …” “Enough  
talking already”, she said, kicking off her shoes and throwing her coat onto a chair, “roses wither and  
wilt when they’re not appreciated”. He laughed that quick and dirty laugh and kicked off his boots,  
too. 

“So you decided you’re a rose now? Nice”. She made a face. “Figure of speech, love. You’re an actor,  
I supposed. Words?” He laughed again and grabbed her before she could pull out her blouse. “Wait a  
minute. You don’t want to talk about all this?” “Noooo”, she said, shaking her head so violently the  
wine flew around in it but stayed put, “do you wanna talk? I mean, really, I thought we had had  
enough of that in that fucking car”. 

“Nice words”, he said grinning, and: “wait. I’ll do that for you”. He stepped closer and started  
opening her blouse very slowly but when she grabbed his ass and pulled him close to her he groaned,  
took the whole thing and pulled it off over her head. She wore nothing under it. She didn’t need to.  
His eyes glistened and he came closer to kiss her again, deeply, his tongue in her mouth doing things  
she already felt, imagined him doing below, and she let herself fall onto her bed and he toppled onto  
her and she grabbed his behind again, but this time under, inside of the trousers and it felt as  
gloriously good as it had looked, that ass in the alley and she kneaded him until he made really loud  
groaning noises and she felt him move, twitch, become really hard and twitch against her and he  
cupped her breasts, kissing her nipples one after the other, sucking only so lightly, then harder and  
that was enough, more than enough, to make the feeling unbearable without doing more and she  
took one hand away from his bum and led it to his forefront and yes – all hard and hot and already  
leaking and he groaned and hissed when she stroked it, the whole length, fingering the slit, and he  
said: “Wait wait wait” and pulled out of his trousers and she out of her panty, letting the skirt where  
it was, couldn’t bother with that just now. 

And she opened her legs and he groaned again, looking at her, then lay down onto her and kissing  
her breasts, lay his hand on her, her opening and she nearly screamed when he stroked her once,  
twice then moved only the thumb on her and put two fingers inside her and she began moving wildly  
against them, him, and she felt him smiling around her nipple and then she felt something stronger,  
bigger than the fingers at her entrance and threw back her head with a shivering moan and he  
stopped, waiting, and she bit her lip, not wanting to, oh, fuck it, yes, she would, just about now, the  
thumb was still there and she threw herself against it, him and so forced him to enter her in one go  
and he made a very satisfactory sound deep in his throat and while she already climaxed, again and  
again, he tried to make up for his lost time or whatever, trying to catch her and thrust into her deep  
and hard and fast, and for her it never stopped, this was a total first and she clamped her insides on  
him, around him, to get even more of him and he grunted and went rigid and then she felt him  
coming inside her, all wet and sticky and hot. 

She groaned and put her legs around him to get him as close and deep into her as possible and held  
his head close to her with her hands while it lasted. “Woohoo”, she said afterwards, kissing his head.  
He grinned happily with closed eyes. “Wow”, he said and adjusted himself on her and made as if to  
sleep. She watched him with raised eyebrows. Sleep? He? Here? “Don’t want to talk?”, she asked.  
“Nooo”, he said, smiling dreamily, “want to sleep. Let me?” 

She thought that over. Oh, why the hell not? Tomorrow was another day and they would see what  
became of it or not. But for now sleep was totally okay. He still felt good on her and that was more  
than she could say about other guys she had taken home. This one was really sweet and smelled of  
roses. And perhaps she would catch a mouthful of that rosy smell in the morning. That was a lifegoal  
for tomorrow. She fell asleep happily.

**Author's Note:**

> Now I reread it while "formatting" yes, some hints at James being Jame,s meaning, standing up for someone and for the art. I quite like the little bugger. :-)  
> and no I dont even know the directors name, real one, I mean, i made this one up for my dirty purposes, he has nothing to do with the real one. As has James. not. duh!Typos belong to the finder. If you like, kudos are a lovely way to show that.


End file.
